Her wings fluttered behind her as a shiver raced over her skin. The shirt he’d given her wouldn’t do either. Well, it would, but ruining another one of his shirts just for one night seemed a waste. And she sure as heck wasn’t binding up her wings again.Nope, nope, nope, they need to breathe.They ached so much these days from the constant binding. Wings weren’t meant to be bound. She’d be lucky if they worked at all anymore with the way she treated them.
She needed to sleep. Weariness tugged at her. Her body still protested from the hike. She’d expected some bruises and scrapes when she’d carefully cleaned and wiped the grime from her body, but not as many as she’d found. Tree roots just loved to reach up and trip her. She’d always been a bit clumsy, and binding her wings only made it worse.
With a blanket wrapped around her—tucked under her wings but pulled up over her breasts—she carried the last of her wet clothes into the main room. The rest of her belongings already hung off the backs of the chairs near the fire in an attempt to dry them by dawn. She added the last few she’d stripped off. Rain and wind crashed against the house. Though if the storm didn’t let up, the chances of them staying dry for long were poor at best.
Thunder boomed, nearly shaking the house. Tink jumped. The last of her clothes landed on the chair with a wet thump. She tugged the blanket closer and turned back for the bedroom.
But those stairs…Damn. She couldn’t step out here without staring up into the gloom. She hadn’t heard a thing since she’d retired to her borrowed room and taken her time brushing the knots out of her hair. Was Hook asleep? He must be. He should be given their exhausting trek and the days ahead of them.
Then you’ll want me tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.
Those words haunted her. They’d slipped right through her drunken, lust-laden haze and imprinted on her heart. Had that really been only a day ago? It could have been a week for all that had happened. Damn if she didn’t want him. Today. Tomorrow. Right this very fucking minute.
Because one night with you will never be enough.
She hadn’t made that up. Couldn’t have. She’d never expected those words from a filthy pirate, especially notthatfilthy pirate. The way he’d touched her… She shivered. If she closed her eyes,she could feel his hand on her, his breath on her neck, the way he set her on fire.
Her thighs squeezed together, pressing the material of his undergarments to her skin.Holy elders. He gave her those on purpose just to torment her. She stamped her foot, scowling at the stairs. That was the reason for his smirk. He knew what he was doing. He knew what she’d think of, how it would mess with her. Didn’t he want her to get any rest?
After she’d retreated into the bedroom, she’d cleaned in a hurry, expecting him to knock or saunter right in any moment, eager to pick up where they’d left off the night before. Even as she’d sat there, stark naked and brushing out her hair, she’d half been holding her breath the whole time, eagerly awaiting him.
But he didn’t show.
She slid one hand down the front of the borrowed undershorts. One quick rub across her clit, and she moaned into the little room. Her wings twitched and fluttered. It wouldn’t take much, not much at all, but he’d started this and by Holy Flora she wanted him to finish it.
Tink pulled her hand free and stomped toward the stairs. Her courage slipped on the first step, but she forced herself onward, one careful footstep into the darkness at a time.
Choices were few at the top of the stairs, thank goodness. Stumbling around in the dark and earning more bruises wouldn’t satisfy her needs. Thin tendrils of light crept out from under one door. That’s where she’d find Hook.
Tink edged closer, listening intently. Knocking would be wise. Though if he were asleep, it would be rude to wake him, even if he’d added fuel to the fire of her desires.
Light, muffled sounds came from within. She leaned closer, nearly pressing against the door. The storm made the sounds indistinguishable through the wood. Tink gave a hesitant knock.
No reply came, but the noise continued.
She glanced over one shoulder, back toward the stairs. She could leave. Go back down and…no. She’d come this far. Tink cracked the door.
The captain lay on a large bed, covered in a sheet—one that wrinkled and moved where he wiggled underneath. A deep moan slipped from his lips and carried across the room.
Tink leaned into the opening.What is he—
“Y-yes,” he moaned. The sheets bucked. “Tink.”
She fell into the room and crashed onto the floor. The blanket fell away to puddle beside her.Oh holy, revered, fucking elders.
Hook jumped from the bed. “What the bloody—”
She dared a glance at him. His bare chest rose and fell. Her gaze dipped.Oh, oh, oh no.He wore not a scrap of clothing. His cock, flush and erect, jutted between them. An inferno engulfed her. He’d been…to thoughts of her…
Her mouth went dry. Beryl’s wings, he was more divine than her imaginings. The sculpted muscles she’d admired on his chest adorned the rest of him too—chiseled calves, strong thighs. But she’d be lying if she said her attention wasn’t glued to the impressive appendage between them. It took effort to pull her attention to his face, which he currently scrubbed with his hand.
“Tink.” He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread.
“Uh…hi.” She waved from the floor.
Hi? Hi! That was the best you could come up with?
She wanted to sink into the floor, to crawl under the blanket.
